


Sister from the Same Mister

by bluetoast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Sisters, Candy, Gen, Mentions of Character Death, Quidditch, Sacrifice, Siblings, Tragic Deaths, mentions of Dean/Castiel - Freeform, the people you meet in heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam just looked up his family in the genealogy library of Heaven to check on his cousins. He didn't expect to find the names of two children attached to his father Dean Winchester. Sequel to - "A Subtle Touch of Grace"</p><p>Written for HC-Bingo. Prompt - Lost Childhood</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister from the Same Mister

Liam didn't know what possessed him to look up his father's family in the Genealogy Library, where every record of every birth, death and marriage on earth was recorded. When he'd left the nesting grounds of Heaven, he still had plenty of leave left, but he wanted to let Brielle and their parents to have the same alone time he'd gotten when he was young. He didn't envy his little sister in that she got more time with Dad than he did; how may times had he heard the expression _life is not fair_. Dad might not be alive anymore, but it was – well, it was something beyond their control. 

So here he was, sitting at a table in the library, trying to figure out why it'd been so important to him to come here to this particular library. Perhaps it was just some reassurance that his cousins, Holly and Daniel would be fine, they would be safe – and he didn't need to worry about them. He was prepared to see their dates of marriage, their own children, dates of death – what he wasn't prepared was his father's entry. He frowned down at the name, his brain not entirely comprehending what he was reading. 

Winchester, Dean Michael. (The Michael Sword) Born: January 24, 1979, in Lawrence, Kansas. Death: October 16, 2028, in Blue Springs, Missouri. Cause: Lung Cancer. Children: Kittridge, Heather Grace (1996-2010) Braden, Benjamin (1998-2106). 

His hand was trembling as he stared at the two names, utterly confounded. He had a brother. An older brother who had been at Dad's funeral and he couldn't even tell that they were related. He'd looked right at the man and not seen the resemblance that had been as plain as the nose on Benjamin's face. His big brother was still alive, it would be years before he came to Heaven. He closed his eyes, setting a fingertip on the first name, that of his sister, and then caught a flash of red, and the scent of kettle corn. She was here, in Heaven. His big sister was here and he knew nothing about her, and, given that her birth-date was before their father turned eighteen, it was a good bet that Dean didn't know about her. 

He noted the the absence of his own and his little sister's. Of course they wouldn't be listed, angels didn't keep track of such things. He set his finger back on the first name – wondering if Papa knew about her and just never told either of them. His frown deepened as he took in the year of Heather's death – 2010. Too late to be involved in the breaking of the Seals – but it could still be tied to the Apocalypse. He glanced down the page, expecting to see her listed right under Winchester, Adam but instead, it went right to Holly. “I have a sister to find.” He shut the book with a snap and rose to his feet. Given her age, there was only one place in all of Heaven he would find her. 

*

Liam exited the Children's Library and into one of the parts of Heaven that came close to what most people thought of when they pictured Heaven, or rather, Paradise. Thousands of smells assaulted him as he came to the foot of the stairs, and from the scores of treats, he could make out deep fried Oreos with no problem. It was bittersweet; he could inhale the scents all he wanted, but to him, the food served in this Heaven would be like eating air. He walked calmly down the path, and nearly laughed. He'd walked into this place without any idea of what his sister looked like. 

“You've got to be the youngest angel I've ever seen.” A voice said from his left and he turned. Standing there was a young man that he had never seen before, and yet, Liam instantly knew him. “Alexei Romanov.” 

“It's just Alex.” He folded his arms and lifted his chin. “Usually when an angel shows up out here, it's to bring a kid to visit their parents. Maybe I can help you find them.” 

He gave the boy a smile. “I'm afraid I've come to find a needle in a haystack of needles. I doubt you know whom I am looking for, you died nearly a hundred years apart.”

The former Russian prince folded his arms and glowered at him. “You should come to the book club my sister's in. It's like looking at five hundred years of fashion.” 

Liam chuckled. “No thank you.” He decided that there really wasn't any harm in asking – it might even help narrow down his search. “I'm looking for someone named Heather Kittridge. She's either thirteen or fourteen.” 

The boy frowned, pursing his lips as he thought. “I only know two Heathers, neither of them with that last name.” He pointed down the path. “You might ask Elijah. He should be down by the water slides. If he's not there, he's by the Quidditch Pitch.” He shuddered. “I may be dead, but I'm not playing that game.” 

He blinked. “There's a Quidditch Pitch here? Since when?” 

“Since – I don't know, it's been a while.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving Liam alone.

He found himself watching the other teenaged children for a moment, a feeling of sorrow washing over him. This wasn't the place for young children, they were elsewhere; this was where all those between the ages of twelve and seventeen came, and nearly every teenager was here. One would think it would be crowded, but it never was; for a place with a population in the billions, it was surprisingly empty at first glance. He hadn't been kidding about looking for a needle in a haystack of needles – but it was more of an ocean of needles if he really thought about it. He sighed, turned ,and went in the direction he'd been shown. 

Liam walked on the edge of the path, ducking out of the way of various teens who passed him on bicycles, scooters, roller-skates and even a few on unicycles. He found the pitch before he found Elijah. He leaned against the railing of the stadium, watching two teams, double the size they were in the books, zoom around on broomsticks, tossing a large red ball and he swore he caught sight of a golden snitch; and there were a few kids sitting in the stands, all wearing robes that he recognized from the first _Harry Potter_ film. He was so caught up in watching the game that he almost didn't see one of the chasers veer over to one of the kids in the stands, dismount her broom and hand it to him. 

A moment later, the boy was in the air and the girl was coming towards him. When she was about twenty feet away, she folded her arms and lifted her chin, regarding him with a rather haughty look; one that he seemed to recall from a painting he couldn't quite place.

“Well, well well... if it isn't the Son of Chance.” She closed the distance and gave him an even more familiar smirk. “I was starting to wonder if you were just as thick as the rest of the men in the family.”

He stared at the girl; hair that was somewhere between red and blond, blue eyes and a paint spatter of freckles over her nose; like Dad's. “Heather Kittridge?”

“That's me.” She lifted her chin. “Alias the Daughter of the Hunt, alias the Michael Sword, Alias the Harvest Sacrifice.” 

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “I only understood one of those titles. What do you mean, I'm the Son of Chance?” 

“What do they teach in Angel School?” She chuckled then her face went slack, as if she too, had just remembered something. “A certain sugar-addicted angel told me you have a mission to complete and I had to be the one who told you about it.” 

“You know Gabriel?” Liam hid his shock the best he could. “How?”

“He's always here for the championship.” She pointed to the pitch. “Let's go sit somewhere. This is a sort of a long story and judging that it's taken you this long to come looking, you just found out about me.” 

“Yeah.” He took a few steps towards her, noting that she barely reached his chin. “I feel like I should apologize for that.” 

“You don't have to.” She took hold of his arm and led him out of the stadium. “Our version of Earth is very lucky, in that in ours, Henry Winchester never vanished.” She shuddered. “There are some seriously messed up realities out there.” 

“I've heard.” Liam intoned. “I once made the mistake of asking what the worst one was. All my superiors told me was it involved the Tablets, leviathans, and the angels falling.”

“Yeah, I've heard about that one too. Makes me glad I die in the exact same way in nearly all the ones I exist in, save one.” She shot him a look. “And that's where you need to go. Or rather, you need to find my maternal half-brother in this world to send a message.” 

“Who is your mom?” He gave her a sideways look then pulled away from her in horror. “Melpomene. You're... you're...” 

She rolled her eyes. “President Snow playing golf, your mom was an angel wearing a man as a meat suit. My mom is a muse. I can't imagine what you'd say to Garnet or Sara.” She sat down under the nearest tree, a massive cottonwood. She lifted her chin, arms folded. “Sit.” 

He did as bid, but kept his distance. The fact that his sister was partially – well, what he would consider a monster – no, he wouldn't think like that. “Sorry, I just...” He shook his head. “This has to be the strangest day of my life.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over at his sister as she leaned against the trunk of the tree. “Daughter of the Hunt, huh?” 

“Yup.” She pulled something out of the pocket of her robes; a Butterfinger candy bar, and she unwrapped it. “The way these things just show up and never melt...” She took a bite off the end, giving him a smile as she ate. “Sorry, you want one?”

“No thank you. Ah, the food here...” He shook his head. “It'd be tasteless.” 

“Bummer.” She set the bar on her lap. “So... Liam, where would you like to start?”

He took a breath. “I dunno...” He frowned. “How about...” He sighed. “All right, I didn't have a plan for what I'd say when I found you, I just wanted... I'm guessing I just wanted to find you. The... family thing.”

“Liam, it's a strange thing. In the world where I survive, you're never born. Neither are your cousins, Holly and Daniel. You would be stunned at how few realities have Sam Winchester as a father.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, no, I don't think you would be.”

He let out a weak laugh. “I don't know them all that well... it's...” He felt his shoulders slump. “You called me the Son of Chance. What did you mean by that?”

“It's a simple as what direction Dean drove after Sam took off for Stanford. If he drives south, you're born. If he drives west, Garnet's born, if the drives east, it's Sara. And if he drives north, none of you are.” She took another bite of her candy bar, watching him. “I can be born if he drives north or south, see, my position as oldest was ah, my mom sort of ah, well, she time traveled back to my birth year to throw Lilith off.”

“That makes sense.” He shifted. “So, ah, what year would you have been born in, had Melpomene not done so?”

“Two-thousand nine.” She sighed. “She always does it and it almost always turns out the same – although my date of death shifts.” She ate more of her candy.

Liam thought over what she had said. He had no idea who Sara and Garnet were, but he understood what she meant by the direction Dad drove being the factor in determining their existence. The two girls must be their sisters, with different mothers. It was well known that sometimes, something as mundane and trivial as what someone chose for any given meal could change their whole life path. “I take it we all have Ben Braden for a brother.” 

“All of us except Liesel, but she's so far out of our league, I feel privileged to know her name.” She stretched. “Liesel the Lucky.”She snickered. “and Ben's an ostrich. Head in the sand, completely ignorant of the whole damn mess.” 

“Except for changelings.” He retorted. 

“Well, that had to happen.” she finished her candy and the wrapper vanished. “Just like I had to be killed.” 

He swallowed, a lump settling somewhere under his heart. “How... I mean...”

“I said I was the Harvest Sacrifice.” She fixed him with a piercing look. “I, along with three of my friends, were killed to raise Famine.” 

“Shit.” He stared at her in horror. His own parents, one of them her own biological father, had been tied to her death and not even known it. He'd been told the horror of what happened when Famine came to that Nebraska town. Raising that horseman required the ritualistic slaughter of four virgin girls, one born on each solstice and equinox. The twisted realization that Heather's death could have been prevented by his Dad and Papa, made him feel physically ill. It wasn't all too different with what happened to their uncle Adam. 

“Don't say you're sorry. I'm sort of fine with the dead thing.” She closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I mean, I never had to pay taxes or any of the bad parts of life. I don't think I even had a bad period in the short time I was having them.” 

He let out a snort. “You have a terrible sense of humor, you know that?”

“I've tried to look on the bright side.” She opened her eyes, grinning. “I've also never had my heart broken, I did not have to go through the hell on earth that is high school, and I didn't have to wait to watch the Cubs win the two-thousand sixteen World Series.”

“You're a Cubs fan?” He let out a weak chuckle. “I never would have guessed that.”

“Yeah, not only that, right afterward, I had a _Doctor Who_ marathon with Patrick Troughton and high tea with Keith Moon. I know who all the Doctors are. You would not believe how amazing the 100th Anniversary Special is.” She grinned. 

“I've not seen any of that show, so I'll take your word for it.” He sighed. “And you play quidditch.” 

“Liam, I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me. Although I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Dean about me. At least, not until I say it's okay.”

He frowned. “Why not? I mean, shouldn't he know?”

Heather shook her head. “No. Not when he knows that had he known about me, he could have saved me from being killed.” She leaned forward. “Regret is a big thing in this family.” 

He wasn't going to argue with her there, and then went over the last few minutes to himself, then gave her a wry look. “Are there any other siblings we have that I should know about?”

“Does Dean hate peach pie?” She replied, her expression so like their father it was almost scary.

“Damn.” He looked away, already wondering if this sibling was alive or dead.

“Junta's safe. Don't worry about him.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I'll fill you in on our whole sorted family tree some other time. But be prepared, you might start looking at other people you know in a whole new light.” 

“I think I can stand it.” He shifted so he could rest his chin on his knee, hugging his leg. “You said you knew I was coming.” 

She nodded and mirrored his pose. “See, that reality, the one where I live? It's what you might call a series of extreme coincidences. That world has to exist in order for Liesel's to exist, because they're sort of like two sides of the same coin.”

“Hence the name Liesel the Lucky.” He wrinkled his nose. “What's so special about her world?”

“Because there has to be a nice happy reality where the Winchesters don't have to spend their lives hunting monsters, Dean never has to go to Hell and...” She fell silent as he held his hand up.

“Picket fences and apple pie life, huh?” He tried to think of his dad, without his papa, but happy – and all those other people connected to their family; the Harvelles, Bobby Singer, Pastor Murphy... “What about all those people they saved? What about them?” 

“You know as well as I do that the only thing John Winchester was after was Azazel and all the other hunts were just steps towards find him.” She snorted. “Don't tell me you actually believe that bullshit about 'saving people, hunting things, the family business.'” 

Liam's reply didn't even reach his mouth, he already knew she was right. “I think I worry too much.” 

She leaned over and pinched his cheek, grinning. “Well, one of us has to be the worrier.” 

He jerked away from her, swatting at her hand. “You think you're pretty cute, don't you?”

She grinned. “I think I'm adorable.”


End file.
